Hermione rose before dawn the next day. Luckily for her, Cassiopeia slept through the night and was still asleep. Slowly, and quietly, she cautiously crept out of the master bedroom, not wanting to wake up Draco. She glanced at him with her sad brown eyes from the bedroom. He looked so peaceful when he slept, almost like a little boy, the only time he ever looked to be at peace at all. It literally broke her heart to know that in his dreams he could re-live the moments he wanted to, but in the waking world, his reality he was unable to be the man he wanted to be.

She turned back then, fighting the urge she had to crawl back into bed and hold him, and crept silently down the staircase in Malfoy Manor and made her way to the kitchen.

When she married him, she decided that she didn’t want house elves, all a part of her plan for S.P.E.W. Sometimes she felt it was a big part of why Draco resented her. Even more sometimes she personally felt that she wished she hadn’t done it, wishing that she had the help around the house. But now, 13 years into their marriage wasn’t the time to dwell on such things. She sighed as she made the coffee, the muggle way, and warmed up Cassie’s bottle, since Hermione’s intuition told her that her daughter would be waking up hungry, very soon.

As if on cue, the baby monitor in the kitchen detected the loud, piercing sob that Cassie let out from her nursery. Hermione apparated into the nursery, picked up her daughter, smiling and kissing her.

“Hi, baby girl.”

She was greeted with a sob.

“Uh-Oh. You need to be changed don’t you?” Hermione said, being playful, even though she was far from the playful mood. This was the part she never did by hand and appreciate being a witch. She waved her wand, accioed this and that and in a few seconds Cassie had a new diaper, and a pretty new onesie on.

“Okay baby girl. Let’s go feed you.” She said as she carried Cassie downstairs back to the kitchen. The bottle was ready now and Hermione sat down holding the bottle up to Cassie, who gleefully grabbed it with both hands and began to feed herself. Hermione sat back and drank her coffee.

Later that morning, Hermione heard the shower upstairs turn on, and knew that as her cue to make breakfast. 30 minutes later Draco came downstairs, stomping into the kitchen, about to demand where his breakfast was, only to find it being set on the table for him. There was of course only one plate, meaning either that Hermione had already eaten, or that she wasn’t going to eat.

He met the cool gaze of his wife, he stood facing him, not smiling, but not looking particularly angry either.

“Are you eating?” He asked, then mentally kicked himself.

Her face quickly turned from a cool, calm expression to one that hinted pent up frustration, eager to break free.

Not an: I’m sorry, not that she expected one, or even a good morning, or hello. Instead he asks if she will be eating.

“I’m not hungry.” she said, fighting her urge to get angry and fight. She didn’t want this to turn into a screaming match, even though she knew at this point it likely would.

“You need to eat something. You can’t do that to yourself. For Chris sakes Hermione, you have a baby you need to take care of.”

“I said I’m Not Hungry.” She said raising her voice.

“Eat something right now!”

“NO!”

He slammed his fist down on the table, rather a relies of frustration or as a threat Hermione couldn’t tell.

“Fine, it’s your Funeral; just don’t expect me to bring your children.” He screamed at her, pushing his plate away filling a thermos full of coffee and snatching the daily prophet off of the table.

Then he apparated out and was gone.

Cassie began screaming because of the fight that took place right in front of her.

Hermione didn’t have the energy to try and stop her tears, just breaking down the same as Cassie.

When she was finally done crying, unable to produce anymore tears, she picked up her copy of the prophet. She looked at the section that advertised legal consolations, found the lawyer she wanted to meet with and owled to make an appointment.

An hour later she had a response that he had a free appointment that afternoon, and would be able to meet with her at noon. Hermione went upstairs and showered. She dressed in a gray charcoal suit, and put Cassie in a pair of jeans and a soft pink sweater.

Then she apparated to the ministry of magic and took the elevator up to thirteenth floor, Wizarding legal consolations.

“May I help you?” A young witch asked from the desk at the entryway to the office she choose, as she twisted her hair and popped a piece of pink bubble gum. Hermione fought the urge to wrinkle her nose at the distastefulness of the young witches professionalism.

“Yes. My name is Hermione Malfoy, I have an appointment to see Mr. Gosslin.”

“Let me just confirm that appointment Mrs. Malfoy.” She said and once again, began popping her gum. “Yes, you are in the database as an appointment you can go right in, Mr. Gosslin is expecting you.”

“Thank you.” Hermione said and walked into the magnificent office that part of her hated walking into, another part knowing it was her only option.

“Mrs. Malfoy, please have a seat. What Can I help you with today?”

“I am here to divorce my husband.”

“Yes, of course. When?”

“As soon as possible. I’m leaving him today.”

“Do you have any demands?”

“I get the children, he will have visitation rights, he can have everything else.”

“Mrs. Malfoy, do you have any source of income?”

“No. But I am in the process of publishing a book series that will bring in decent income.”

“Very well. Although I can’t make any promises as to a custody battle on those circumstances, Mr. Malfoy has an income, a home, and means to provide for the children that it seems you do not.”

“I know. I have a home and a trust fund, I inherited after my Parent’s deaths.”
“Well. Then I will draw up the papers and send them out.”

“You cans end them to The Ministry of magic, Thirtieth floor, office of Wizarding crimes number 15. Today if you will.”

“Very well. Good day Mrs. Malfoy.”

Hermione left the office, mustering up all the courage she could not to say stop the plans. She returned home, packed up her and Cassie’s clothes, all of Hermione’s muggle additions to the home, her books and toiletries.

Then she went to the garage where she kept my Silver SUV, and Put Cassie in her Car Seat. Buckling up myself, she drove away from Malfoy Manor without a backward glance in the mirror. She drove past London to her Parent’s late home in a suburb right out of the city.

“Here we are Cassie, our new home.”

Draco was in his office in a foul mood when a paper landed on his desk. It was actually a yellow Envolope which he opened promptly.

He slammed his fist down on the desk, as he read the paper, Just as Blaise walked into the room.

“What is it man?”

“This, is madness Bliase. I can’t believe that I’m reading this correctly.”

“What?”

“Hermione is divorcing me.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I’m taking the rest of the day off, see if I can talk some sense into her.”

“Yeah, go home Draco.”

He apparated out of his office and to his home.

“Hermione!” He screamed. “Where are you, you stupid mudblood?”

Only silence greeted him, and when he cleared his eyes and saw the manor for the first time, it was empty, gone were the clothes, and books, and things for his wife and daughter. He sank to the floor, unable to support himself standing an put his hands in his face. For the first time since the war ended, Draco Malfoy cried.